


Hang Tough, Kid

by HoodEx



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Aftermath of Amnesia, Dick and Clark talk about shit after Dick gets his memories back, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:07:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24240301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoodEx/pseuds/HoodEx
Summary: “Pretty much everyone has. Missed the old me, I mean,” he says distantly, incapable of keeping the bitterness from bleeding into his tone.Unfortunately for him, Clark’s emotionally intelligent enough to pick up on it.“I miss you every day, no matter what name you go by,” Clark says, jostling him slightly.Dick leans further away from him so he can look Clark in the eyes. Clark’s expression is as genuine as ever, blue eyes roaming over Dick’s face in concern.Dick’s throat feels tight. “If that’s true… why did you never come see me? Why didn’t you try to help me?”
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Clark Kent
Comments: 40
Kudos: 315
Collections: Dick & Ensemble





	Hang Tough, Kid

**Author's Note:**

> At the time of writing this, Dick hasn't regained all of his memories in comics. I decided to write a fic that takes place post-amnesia arc anyways.

Dick finds himself sitting on the ledge of a building in Metropolis one Tuesday night in July. 

He’s in the midtown district that’s a halfway point between the downtown and suburb area. It’s always been Dick’s favorite part of Metropolis other than Clark’s apartment. 

Most of the businesses in this area are family-owned. They’re decorated with fresh coats of white paint, green plants, pretty lights, and handpicked decor that gives each place it’s own unique feel. It’s the type of place where the owners know you by name and bend over backwards to get you what you’re looking for. 

It’s that personal connection that Dick loves the most. It gives the whole place a very welcoming and homey vibe that reminds him a lot of the circus. It’s nothing at all like the fake illusion of community that holds Bludhaven together like an overused piece of scotch tape.

The only downside is that it’s a little too humid for his liking, but the warm breeze that keeps ghosting through his hair makes it bearable. Plus, the fairy lights that are strewn between a lot of the restaurants across from where he’s sitting are mesmerizing to look at. They make it easy to forget about things like the weather. 

Dick wishes the restaurants were still open at this time of night. The longer he eyes the Mexican restaurant down the street, the more his stomach starts to rumble insistently. He hasn’t eaten anything since lunch and he’s starving. A few tacos and some salsa would really do wonders for his mood. 

Dick crosses his arms over his increasingly loud stomach. 

“Sh!” he hisses at it in the same way he hisses at his teammates when they’re being too rowdy. 

He clenches his fingers in the fabric of his shirt and lets out a shaky breath, chest feeling too tight for comfort. 

Teammates. Friends. Right. He had those once. 

He doesn’t want to think about that. About his friends. Or what’s left of them, anyways. 

He came here to forget about that stuff. To forget about everything that happened to him in Bludhaven. The destruction of Gotham and his family. The loss of...

“Shit.” 

Dick forces the image of Alfred’s smiling face out of his mind. He already cried about Alfred this morning. And yesterday. And the day before that. And a lot of days before that. 

He’s tired of crying. Tired of feeling like he’s a stupid piece of Swiss cheese that’s got too many holes in it. Too many pieces missing. He’s just…

So tired. 

Dick threads his fingers through his hair and pulls it back out of his face. The more he soaks in the tranquil atmosphere of the street, the more he feels like disrupting it by screaming into the night. He won’t do it, though. It may be Troy Bolton’s style, but it sure isn’t his. 

“Thought I recognized your voice.”

Dick looks up, not all that surprised to see Clark gliding down towards him in his Superman gear. Clark’s eyes are warm and friendly, just like how they always are whenever it’s just the two of them. Dick’s glad that at least that hasn’t changed. 

“Supes,” he says, sporting a genuine smile. “Long time no see.”

Clark returns the smile easily and floats closer until they’re face to face. He holds out his blue-clad arms in invitation. 

Dick feels himself hesitate for a split second. He’s never been hurt by those hands. By a lot of other hands, sure. But never Clark’s. 

He dives forward and wraps both his arms around Clark’s shoulders, pressing his cheek into the crook of Clark’s warm neck. Clark hums in happiness and returns the embrace, leaning his head against Dick’s. 

Clark is bigger than Dick. Always has been. Getting hugs from him feels like being engulfed by an impenetrable teddy bear. It’s… nice. Feels safe. 

Dick likes feeling safe. 

It takes a long, _long_ time before either of them pulls away. And even when Clark moves to sit on the ledge, he stills keeps his arm around Dick’s shoulders, pulling Dick close into his side. 

Dick lets Clark take all of his weight, and he sighs in relief, feeling the tension drain out of his shoulders. 

“I don’t mean to get all mushy on you,” Clark says through a laugh that sounds a little too wet. A little too fake. “But I’ve really missed you.”

And just like _that_ , Dick suddenly feels cold inside. Detached. Like he has to shut his emotions off before he explodes. 

He’s heard that same sentence uttered by his family ever since he got his memories back. Part of him understands what they mean. They were emotionally attached to Dick Grayson, not the person he became after he got his brains scrambled. Obviously, they would miss who he used to be.

The other part of him, the more fragile part, feels rejected by them. Because for a period of time, Ric was all he ever was. The only thing he ever knew. The only thing he could be. And his family rejected that part of him. They didn’t want him around unless he was the person they knew. 

Even Babs, who had been there when he was learning how to walk again, only showed up in Bludhaven to try and get him to remember who he was before the accident. She didn’t want to support him as Ric. She wanted what was best for _her_ , not what was best for _him_. 

Dick still remembers every detail from those days. It’s not easy for him to forget how his family tried to make him step back into his old life rather than help him move forward into a new one. 

Even though he’s had his memories back for a few weeks now, he’s still not over it. He’s not sure he’ll be over it for a long time, if ever. 

Clark’s arm suddenly tightens around Dick even more. Shit. Dick must have spaced out. He does that a lot more now these days. That, and he gets really intense headaches a few times a week. Side effects from brain damage and all that. 

“Pretty much everyone has. Missed the old me, I mean,” he says distantly, incapable of keeping the bitterness from bleeding into his tone. 

Unfortunately for him, Clark’s emotionally intelligent enough to pick up on it. 

“I miss you every day, no matter what name you go by,” Clark says, jostling him slightly. 

Dick leans further away from him so he can look Clark in the eyes. Clark’s expression is as genuine as ever, blue eyes roaming over Dick’s face in concern. 

Dick’s throat feels tight. “If that’s true... why did you never come see me? Why didn’t you try to help me?”

Dick knows it’s not fair to ask that to Superman of all people. Clark can’t save everybody. He can’t be everywhere at once taking care of other people’s problems, especially when things have been so crazy lately with his own son and all the hero deaths...

Fuck. He’s got tears burning in the corners of his eyes now. He refuses to let them fall. Refuses to let himself crumble when he’s spent weeks trying to put himself back together. 

“I visited you once while you were in the hospital,” Clark admits with a color of remorse. “Bruce didn’t think it was a good idea for anyone to come see you once you woke up.”

Bruce. Typical. 

“He told us you were having a hard time adjusting. Said you didn’t want to be around your family and friends.” Clark eyes him closely. “I’m guessing it’s more complicated than that, isn’t it?” 

Dick’s laugh falls flat. “Isn’t it always when it involves Bruce?” 

“Touché.”

Dick pulls part of Clark’s cape into his lap and rubs the fabric between his fingers. He’s been sitting up here for way too long. He can’t help but fidget under Clark’s arm. 

“You know what he did the first day I got home from the hospital?” Dick asks, focusing on the cape instead of Clark’s gaze. “I didn’t even have time to change out of my hospital gown before Alf—they shuffled me down to the batcave.”

He remembers how confused he’d been at that time. How awestruck he was at the very idea that he apparently grew up in a mansion with a butler. It didn’t make sense to him back then. Not when he only had a few select memories from the circus days and nothing else. 

“Imagine my surprise when a man in a bat costume greeted me by jumping down from the goddamn rafters.”

He feels Clark’s stare burning into the side of his head. 

“He did not,” Clark says in a tone that’s part disbelief and part oh my fucking god my best friend is a moron. 

“Yup,” Dick says with a pop. “Right after that, I was treated to a video of me getting my brains blown out.”

Clark’s mouth drops open in shock. “What the hell?”

“My thoughts exactly. I booked it out of there and never went back.”

“He can’t just… why would he…?”

“Listen, I’m just happy to know that you’re acting like this isn’t normal. Everyone else was perfectly fine with it, and I thought there was something wrong with me for thinking it was insane to watch one of the most traumatic experiences of my life fresh out of the hospital.”

Clark groans and rubs his hands over his face. “Jesus Christ. There’s nothing wrong with _you_. Bruce on the other hand…” 

“A real piece of work,” Dick nods in agreement. “He wanted me to be the same as I was before a bullet snatched my entire life away from me. Everyone did. That’s why they showed me that video, and that’s why I didn’t want to be around anyone I knew. They were only interested in getting me to remember stuff I had no chance of remembering. Shit sucked.”

And it still does. It really, really sucks. 

Clark takes a second to process all that. “I can’t even imagine… I’m really sorry, Dick. Really, I am.”

Dick finally raises his head to lock eyes with Clark. He almost does a double-take when he realizes how upset Clark looks with his furrowed brows and deep frown. 

“I didn’t know all that was going on. If I had, I would’ve checked on you even if Bruce didn’t want me to. Even if you didn’t want anything to do with me at that point, I still should have tried. I could’ve at least pestered Bruce into helping you more. I never was very good at trying to fix things between you two, though.”

Dick smiles sadly. “No, I guess not. That’s not part of your job description anyways.”

Clark squeezes the back of Dick’s neck. “It’s my job as your friend to give him a kick in the ass for you. How about that?” 

“I think I could get behind that. Just… go easy on him, alright? He’s been dealing with a lot of shit lately.” 

Clark gives him a pointed look. “You’re his kid. Your health and safety should have been his priority. Not getting your memories back. He needs to know that.” 

“I know, I know,” Dick grumbles and crosses his arms. “I just think that with everything that’s happened recently, he’s not going to give you an explanation you’ll be satisfied with. There’s a lot of things he’s lost control of, and honestly, catching the third degree from you probably won’t register with him in a good way right now.”

Clark whistles short and low. “Even when he’s the one in the wrong, you’re still looking out for him. You amaze me Dick Grayson. Always have. You mind if I start sending Jon your way? I think he could learn a thing or two from you. ” 

Dick feels his cheeks get hot at the praise. When he was younger, he always felt like a million bucks whenever Clark complimented him. Brain damage or no, that still hasn’t changed. 

“From me? I’ve got nothing on you.” 

“Hey, don’t talk about my favorite hero like that,” Clark says, booping Dick on the nose.

Even though Clark is probably just teasing him, Dick can’t help but soak in the happiness at the very idea of it. 

“And don’t worry about Bruce’s problems right now,” Clark says, voice taking on a concerned tone once again. “If he needs help… I’ll do my best to help him. But I’m still going to talk to him about all of this because he needs to hear it.” Clark’s blue eyes are so intense that Dick almost looks away from him. “You just focus on yourself, alright?”

Dick wants to laugh at that because he’s so tired of thinking about himself. He spent practically an entire year having an identity crisis as Ric, and now that he has all of his memories back, he feels lost all over again. It’s like a rollercoaster he can’t get off of. 

“Thanks,” he says anyways, because what the hell else is he supposed to say?

Clark claps him on the back, and just like that, the atmosphere suddenly feels lighter. 

Dick feels lighter too. Kind of. Maybe it’s just the humidity making him feel a certain way. 

“You know,” Clark says as he peels himself off the ledge and starts floating, “Lois cooked up a mean lasagna earlier. We still have half a pan left. Think you’d be interested in finishing it off with me?”

Dick’s stomach growls at the mention of food. He’s had hunger pains for hours now, and he can feel them reaching a peak. Even if Clark had just asked him to eat a seasoned rat, his answer still would’ve been the same. 

“Hell yeah.”

He pulls himself to his feet and jumps forward, knowing that even if he’s uncertain about everything else in his life, the one thing he can rely on is that Clark will catch him. 

And he does.

**Author's Note:**

> You may be wondering why I didn't touch on the Owls or the Joker manipulating Dick. One reason is because, as of right now, the amnesia arc is still ongoing. I'd rather not focus on those aspects since I don't know the end result of the arc. 
> 
> I also wanted this to be more about Dick's feelings regarding the people in his life/how he was treated by his family during the amnesia arc. And I just wanted one person to be on Dick's side and to be like "Yeah, what your family did was fucked up." I thought Clark should be that person since Dick also ran to him when Bruce fired him. And Clark knows how... extreme Bruce can be. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope that was somewhat satisfying?


End file.
